


And Your Bittersweet Embrace

by wickersnap



Series: We Wrote Our Story [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Avengers Family, EVERYONE - Freeform, Ensemble Cast, Everyone lives, Multi, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), completely changed really, e ve r y o n e, just a few months, no past selves, not five years later, peter and shuri are bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-02-08 20:56:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18631069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickersnap/pseuds/wickersnap
Summary: Peter, he… He doesn’t really feel like he knows what happened all that well himself. Something had definitely been wrong, very wrong, in that tingly-but-not-just-in-a-Spider-Sense way, and he, he had been dying, he was sure, like the others. He’d reached out to Tony in blind panic, and then he’d blinked, and with a lurch of realisation, everything had been all right again. Nothing hurt. And he wasn’t on Titan. They won, they really won! And he... he has no idea what he's going to do.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this last year, after infinity war, which you may notice by the preceding part of the series, so I've kept my original angle but adjusted it for endgame. So! Instead of a five year gap between the snap and the snap 2.0 ( ;-; ), I've only left it a few months. (and also the fallen were only resurrected after the battle because I had assumed they'd be fighting Thanos and not /Thanos/ ya know? So they'd only get the stones after whoops) . Enjoy this mess, my friends!

It was never as if the world could immediately bounce back to normal. Though nor could they allow a fix where the global public retains full memory of the saga. With the help of Captain Danvers and Tony Stark’s questionable access to every major city’s CCTV, Doctor Stephen Strange, floating about a Moon’s distance from Earth, used his green glittering gem of apocalyptic capability to, quite literally, turn back the clock. While the full parameters of the experiment appeared  transcendentally  incomprehensible to all, they stood by with one eye on the planet and one eye on the monitors reporting Tokyo, New Delhi, São Paulo, Moscow… And watched the events of the past few months roll back like a nightmarish VHS. Even whole weather systems had twisted back into themselves, an odd caricature of spinning candy floss at a carnival, but Earth, the odd ball of relatively stable rock, remained in place. 

Understandably, turning in their reports to whichever and  _ all  _ high authorities caused absolute chaos: as it turns out,  _ ‘Actually, sorry, you’ve all kind of lost a chunk of your lives in what could be a convoluted comparison to cryogenic stasis!’  _ is not exactly a very easy pill to swallow. Perhaps worse than horse pills. But Peter has problems swallowing any kind of pill—even a tic tac—so it wouldn’t matter, really, his point still stands, and the meaning of the idiom remains the same whatever, so. It’s all a bit of a mess. 

But Danvers and Strange take off to go fix the universe.

Peter, he… He doesn’t really feel like he knows what happened all that well himself. Something had definitely been wrong, very wrong, in that tingly-but-not-just-in-a-Spider-Sense way, and he, he had been dying, he was sure, like the others. He’d reached out to Tony in blind panic, and then he’d blinked, and with a lurch of realisation, everything had been all right again. Nothing hurt. And he wasn’t on Titan. At least, he had assumed so. He had been lying somewhat uncomfortably in Tony’s arms, held against his body, and surrounded by green grass and trees and hundreds upon of hundreds of people. When he had been sure that his legs wouldn’t give out, and when Tony had been sure his legs were still there, he had gathered himself and stepped back to gape at the actual army gathered in front of him. And there was Thor over there.  _ The real Thor. _ Holy  _ Shit _ . Glancing around, he’d found himself among many that seemed equally as confused and in varying states of shock, and also next to a bunch of his kick-ass  _ idols _ and suddenly he had gone from speechless shock to speechless awe, and had felt the urge to, for some reason, be violently ill.

Peter thinks back to that part, relishing it particularly as something indescribable, precious and undoubtedly one of the most important experiences of his life. Tony had held onto him, arm around his back, and they’d watched the survivors reunite with those Peter assumed to have been eliminated at Thanos’ hand. Wanda Maximoff had lain awkwardly, going to pieces, across Vision’s body while he presumably tried to console her. Colonel James Rhodes had made his way over to Sam Wilson, and was throwing Sam’s arm over his shoulders to help haul him off the main stage with a fond and exhausted smile to Tony and Steve. Steve Rogers had latched onto Bucky Barnes as soon as he’d been within reach and didn’t look to be letting go any time soon, and oh, Peter had averted his eyes before he’d understood why. 

He had mostly been able to guess what had happened from the tangible emotion in the demeanour of every person, familiar and unfamiliar, and from what he could glean from their location, so he had continued to quietly observe.

There had been a great celebration. So many people in one place served to make a fantastic crowd, though being shunted from conversation to conversation had been so taxing when they were already ready to drop. Thankfully, Tony had managed to keep them in more or less one place, and Peter had had the chance to meet the absolutely  _ awesome _ Princess Shuri, who was a little older than him, but pretty much on the same wavelength and they had just clicked  _ gloriously _ , and that was before the magic. 

Everyone had startled at Thor’s outburst after the return of the Guardians. Peter had been covertly watching the scary awesome lady with the sword meet the rest of the Avengers, and she had disappeared in a blink. Every head had turned to see the commotion. Peter had gasped almost at once and definitely without meaning to—because wow, _Loki!_ _The real Thor and Loki standing right in front of him!_ —and it had apparently taken most everyone a little longer to realise, enough for Loki to change form, because a few more seconds had passed before Tony had tensed like he’d been shocked and Peter had then noticed that he’d been digging his fingers into Mr. Stark’s arm rather painfully. 

Then everything had been all right again, and more drinks had been passed around and actually the rest of the evening was a little bit of a blur to him, but he remembers Thor looking directly at him at one point and grinning tremendously, and then actually having a conversation with him and being clapped on the shoulder and Peter really doesn’t understand what is meant by the saying ‘Never meet your heroes’ because Thor is everything of his reputation and  _ so much more. _ And Peter has a fanboy problem, maybe. Or something.

So after being rushed in and out of countless hearings and boards and panels and hospitals and conferences and being excused and pushed out early almost every time by Tony or Steve so he could go home to Aunt May, Peter finds himself with no work left to do, nothing left to sign, and imminent universal calamity averted. At one point, even the X-Men had put in an appearance, which, while it made some semblance of sense, was a large and very welcome surprise. It was only a pity Peter hadn’t really had a chance to meet any of them.

 

It’s in his apartment with Aunt May that he finds himself finally able to calm down and not have to worry about manners and behaviour and not being taken advantage of. Ned has been around a lot, and Peter’s told him as many stories as he can remember (only some of which within earshot of May, because he really hates that he’s put her in this position without everything else) and he’s asked only once more if Peter’s really sure he’s ‘Happier not telling people’ about Spider-Man. Peter had nodded and given him a weak smile, and Ned had nodded like he genuinely understood and then turned back to their newly started LEGO model of the New Avengers Facility on the living room coffee table and Peter is so,  _ so _ grateful for his friend. 

When he comes home after that last day, with promises for Mr. Stark to collect him first thing Sunday morning, he finds Ned showing off the completed model to his aunt on the sofa. They both turn to welcome Peter in with “Welcome home,” and, “You’re done now, that’s it,” and Peter bounces down into the space between them and sighs deeply and heavily up at the ceiling. Anyone else would have boasted about it, he thinks, finally closing his eyes. About being an honorary Avenger, and about being a fully-fledged one, and about having saved the world, and about having fought Captain America, and, and, and… But May had understood the importance of his job to him, even just the small vigilante trips around the block, and Ned had understood that all Peter wanted to do was quietly continue as the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man, and not some Big Deal, and even Tony, who’d caved to his plea to protect the world in order to protect the neighbourhood, and the neighbourhood is still here, protected, he’s done his job, it’s over, it’s—

Rather undignified, but entirely understandably, Peter Parker breaks down into tears. It was merely at the flicker of the thought, but Peter’s bone-deep exhaustion radiates throughout his aching bones and pretty much obliterates the remains of all of his thinly-spread restraint. Immediately, his knees curl up so his feet rest on the sofa and his hands go to his face, but now he’s started and he can’t seem to stop and it hurts to breathe and he can’t do this here but he can’t get it to stop. Aunt May hauls him into her arms so he’s rolled over awkwardly but neither of them care. Peter can’t stop, so eventually he stops trying, and he lets everything fall out of him in whatever ways it needs to. He can feel Ned running a hand along his shoulder and back and thinks he might be hugging him too.

The following few days Peter spends at home in bed, scrolling social media and playing video games, and finally talking to May. He might not have particularly wanted to, but it does make him feel so much lighter, and he has lots of awesome and unbelievable stories about aliens and low gravity and new tech and  _ holy crap those blasters _ and magic and, really, it was all just very very cool. Ned drops by with take-away from the deli every so often and now it’s Saturday and he’s even brought MJ, who’s trying and failing to pretend she’s not relieved to see Peter happy and unharmed.

“You just disappeared, you know? What kind of asshole keeps disappearing  _ every _ – _ damn _ – _ time _ something happens?” she asks after giving him the once-over and a friendly-but-stuffy clap on the shoulder. Her arms are now crossed. She looks slightly scary. “I thought you’re off school because you’re ill or something, but that’s obviously not it. Spill it Parker: you’re hiding something.” And this time when he tries to laugh it off she’s not having it, and she really must have been curious that time she said she didn’t care, and Peter thinks that if not for the improbability, she would’ve worked it out already. He looks to Ned who shrugs unhelpfully. 

Peter tries to clear his throat and almost chokes, but steps back to invite her to sit down in the living room. He pulls Ned aside to gesture wildly and desperately his panic, with accompanying panic noises, and neither of them really know what to say. “Whatever the hell it is boys, come out with it already,” she calls. And then snorts at some unsaid joke. Peter takes a deep breath and pushes his hands together to stop himself fidgeting.

“I’m showing her the suit.” he decides in a squeak. He makes his way to his room and out of his clothes, and mourns his lack of the nano-tech Spider Armour Tony keeps stored at the compound. Deciding to make his entrance worthwhile and believable, he uses the windowsill to propel himself forwards and swings from the door frame around into the room, somersaulting the sofa and its occupants to landing on the rug between the coffee table and TV in a crouch. When he twists around and stands up he throws his arms out and is tempted to say ‘ta-daaa’, but instead takes off the mask and gives an embarrassed and still-terrified smile. Ned grins and an awkward applause, and May smiles from her perch at the kitchen counter. MJ looks thoughtful.

“Well, that makes sense,” she says.

Taken aback, Peter blinks. “It does?”

“No, actually, it doesn’t—you’re supposed to be a loser, like us—but it does make  _ other  _ things make sense. Like the disappearing. And the Stark intern thing,” she says, frowning. Then she sits back and throws her hands up in defeat. “Yeah, no, what the actual  _ hell _ , Peter, this is not what I was expecting at all.”

“What were you expecting?” he asks. She looks distressed for a couple of moments.

“I don’t know! Not this. What the hell, you’re not allowed to be cool.” Peter grins. “Go change. This is too weird for me to process, nerd.”

When he comes back in his normal clothes she’s sunk lower into her seat and is mumbling to Ned about ‘dumbass spiders’. He drops down next to her on the other side of the sofa.

“So, you think I did okay for one of the guys that saved the world?” he smirks.

“But you did spend half of it dead,” Ned says. MJ looks up at him, horrified, and he winces.

“But that was a Thanos thing, it wasn’t like, a stabby or crushy thing,” he tries. “They undid it with the infinity stones, like they did for half of the entire universe.” 

She doesn’t look convinced. “Who are ‘they’?” she asks, uncertain. Peter smiles and sits up to cross his legs under him and face his friends.

“I thought you’d never ask.” 

He tells her practically everything, condensed, from leaving the school bus to the battle on Titan, to dying, to waking up, and the party in Wakanda. He tells them both more about Shuri and the Guardians, and then tells them what he’d missed that he’d learnt later from Tony and Bruce and sitting in on all of those conferences.

Both of them stay the night, after May takes them all out for Indian and MJ can’t stop herself tackling him in a hug. Ned takes the floor and MJ hops right into the top bunk. Of course, the next morning they’re all sitting in pyjamas and yesterday’s clothes eating cereal in front of the TV, and Tony Stark rings the doorbell. Peter answers as dishevelled as he would be after falling (getting pushed) out of bed.

“All ready and raring to go I see,” Tony remarks on sight.

Peter straightens and fumbles.

“Mr Stark, I… ” then he stops and backs up, gesturing for Tony to walk past him. “Please come in. Give me uh, five, no, um, se-seven minutes!” he says. “Seven minutes and I will be right with you!” He gives two distracted thumbs-up as he backs into the apartment. He

then throws himself into the bathroom, dropping a flannel in the sink under the tap and tearing off his t-shirt. He can hear Tony and Aunt May exchanging greetings in the main room. Harried, he washes quickly and slides back into his room to struggle into a different t-shirt and jeans. He gets back into the living room to find Tony explaining, hands-on, something about his repulsor tech to his friends. Ned is in awe; a rapt audience to Tony’s enthusiastic hand gestures. MJ rolls her head over and raises an eyebrow at Peter from lying draped over the armchair in too-big t-shirt, a pair of track pants and no bra and is absolutely… stunning, wow, looking for all the world as if she were royalty. He really doesn't want to unpack all that right now, so he looks away.

“Are you really going out like that?” 

Startled, Peter glances down at his inside-out shirt and, embarrassingly, gets stuck in the long sleeves attempting to right it.

“Five minutes and forty-three seconds,” Tony says. “Is Boy Wonder ready to show the world who’s boss now?”

“You know me,” Peter tries not to sound nervous when he laughs. “Gotta stick to the beauty regime. The neighbourhood can wait for me to finish getting dressed today, can’t it? No more jumping out of busses in half a suit?” 

Tony smiles. “No more jumping out of busses in half a suit. Unless it’s catching you on the way out,” he agrees.

“Woah, can it do that?” Ned asks. Peter hesitates and glances to Tony, but he’s already answering for him.

“Not the one he has on him, no, but I tell you what: next time I come to pick up Spider-Kid here, you two kids can come with and see the pad. How does that sound?” He offers, bizarrely smug. Ned gapes at him and then at Peter, excitement threatening to manifest in high-pitched nerd babble. Even MJ looks interested, with a politely eager expression.

“May we? Like, actually go and see where all the cool stuff is kept?”

“Well, we’d have to keep you away from all of the dangerous things and the prototypes and the likely-to-explode parts, but Dum-E and the others could probably do with some more friends. They’re getting lonely in the lab with only me down there.”

“ Peter,” May calls from the kitchen. “Don’t be holding Mr. Stark up, okay?” 

Ned, apparently reminded, gathers up their used bowls and plates and takes them over to her. MJ holds Tony’s gaze for only a few moments longer.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Stark, it’s very kind of you to offer,” she says. She twists the hem of her shirt over her fingers. “We’d really love to visit. And, of course, make fun of Peter in front of all of his superhero friends.” 

“Hey, not cool… ” 

Tony looks from her to put-out looking Peter.

“I like this one,” he tells him, simply, and tosses him his jacket from where he’d left it on the back of the sofa.

“Well… ” Peter debates what to say in his head. Is he allowed to tell them about the airport? He doesn’t know. “The first time I met everyone, it wasn’t on the best terms, and for half of them I was on the wrong side—”

“Hey, hey, hey, I’m going to stop you right there,” Tony takes a purposeful step over to him and holds him by the shoulders, affected and frowning. Peter can’t decide whether to hold or avoid eye contact, so ends up repeatedly looking between his face and the floor. “What you need to remember was that whole debacle was  _ my  _ fault, okay? You can’t take any responsibility for me enlisting you. And if anyone on the team is childish enough not to understand that, and for some inexplicable reason takes offense to your presence, or—and I can’t believe I’m suggesting this could happen—decides to  _ dislike  _ you, you come and tell me, and I will sort it out with Steve. Deal?” He angles his face down to keep Peter’s gaze. Peter shifts on his feet, wets his bottom lip and nods. “Good.” Tony, relieved, lets his hands drop as he turns back to the door. “I won’t be having any nonsense from any of them, not even the newcomers. We just keep on multiplying, don’t we, it’s like a  _ disease _ . Remember the days when the weirdest things Earth had to report on were  _ grâce à _ yours truly? Those were the days. Hold on… No, wouldn’t you all have been like, what, seven? Well whatever, they were still the much less complicated times.” 

And with that, he leaves, with Peter left to wave an unsteady goodbye and shut the door behind them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yooooo, this'll be the last chapter before my two weeks of AS start next tuesday, so give me maaaaaybe a month and I'll have some more ready for then! As it is now, please enjoy! And, if you feel so inclined, do drop a comment to let me know how I'm doing :)

The drive through the compound is as awesome as it always is, and Peter gazes out at the refurbished Milano parked on the tarmac, with the quinjet now displaced to outside the garage. He finds this somewhat apt. In the reflection on the window, Tony watches him.

The main building stands out similar to something from an airport (although busier and a lot less noisy)—a pleasant mix of silvery-white panels and glass, it leans up from the ground and curves around to the side; the sunlight glints off the panes and negates, slightly, the patchwork of painted-on cloud shadow.

Happy drives them around to the front courtyard. Peter stumbles out of the car and wanders around in the shade of the overhead walkway. There are scientists in white coats huddled down the side of the building smoking, and techs are organising some kind of delivery in process for the hangar-slash-training facility. Tony steps past and gestures for him to head inside.

“Home, sweet home,” he says. “Let’s go say hi to Dad, shall we?”

Peter smiles. He’s led through a familiar network of bustling corridors, glancing through the glass walls, not (for the moment) obscured, at the equipment and activity going on around them. There seems to be particular interest in one section of the materials engineering department around a dull, thick, navy blue-ish sample. They reach a wide lift at the other end of the building, from which more techs hauling trolleys stacked with boxes exit and roll past them to the labs. They step into the lift.

“Mr. Stark, Mr. Parker, welcome back,” FRIDAY intones. “The living quarters?”

“If you will,” says Tony. The lift starts up towards the top levels.

Up here the corridors widen out and are quiet, and, once through the partition doors from facility to residence, are entirely still. The slate-grey and marbled black hallways hum lazily with music, quiet in the recesses where the doors lead to offices and to personal rooms, but echoing and oddly welcoming.

At the top of the last set of stairs they find Steve, Sam, Rhodey and Vision in the lounge area—the red one with the fancy rug and sound system and other cool things. Steve stands and holds out his hand to Peter.

“Peter,” he says, smiling earnestly, “glad to see you well and rested.” Peter takes his hand and (this time) doesn’t fall over when he’s pulled in and clapped on the shoulder.

“Thank you Captain, Sir, Mister Rogers. It’s good to be back.” He worries his top lip over his teeth and fiddles with his fraying sleeves. The corners of Steve’s eyes crinkle as he laughs gently.

“Please, it’s just Steve. We’re not like that here.”

“All right, all right, _Just Steve,_ keep your boy scout good will in check for a few minutes. I take it the cast of _Friends_ isn’t back yet?” Tony bats at Steve’s arm and makes his way over to fiddle with the speakers. They’re playing _The Police,_ Peter thinks, which is a little odd, but probably another one of the things on the Things-Cap-Must-Know list. Rhodey stands to shake Peter’s hand too, and Sam and Vision nod to him from their seats.

“The Guardians and Carol aren’t due back until after lunch tomorrow,” Steve reminds him. “Wanda and Clint are… Somewhere, the range, probably, and the Asgardians won’t be back until the evening.”

“Do you really think they’ll get permission to settle somewhere here?” Vision asks.

“In New York? Unlikely.” Rhodey says, then pauses to consider. “Well, actually… I don’t know. They might try to throw them out somewhere in the middle of nowhere. There’s plenty of space in all sorts of places, but the politics is… ”

“Annoying? Bad? Disgusting? Self-serving?” Tony supplies. “Irritating?”

“Yes, well. They’re headed back here for a while before the next round of debating.” Steve cuts across, but he doesn’t sound like he disagrees. Peter perches on the arm of the sofa, and Steve resettles himself next to him.

Next thing Peter knows is he’s on the ceiling, thankfully having missed the exposed piping, and all six other occupants of the room are staring up at him in mild surprise except for Steve, who gives a small shout and ducks. Peter frowns. He isn’t miscounting. There’s Tony, Rhodey, Vision, Sam, Steve, and…

“Surprise,” Natasha sings, saccharine and with a grin, leaning across the back of the sofa with her hands clasped over Steve’s shoulders. “Nice to see our little arachnid back in action, isn’t it?” Steve recomposes his expression and releases a breath loudly.

“Hello Natasha.” There’s a snort and a giggle from the stairs as Peter drops back to the floor. He straightens wrings his hands jerkily.

“Miss Widow, um, sorry, I didn’t mean to, y’know—” He stops when she smiles, wary, but it’s gentle, and also probably how she would look at an amusing puppy. She steps forward and gives him a little hug. The two sets of footsteps from the stairs come to rest somewhere behind him.

“Seriously, kid, first names here, it’s all right,” Clint says as he claps his hand down onto Peter’s shoulder and gives a reassuring squeeze. Nat crosses her arms and pouts at him.

“I don’t know, I think I liked the idea of ‘Miss Widow’.” Peter laughs quietly. She winks at him. “Us spider-types have to stick together, you know, Tweetie-Pie. Even if he _is_ cooler than I am.”

Just before they all sit down again, Wanda clears her throat. “Are we going to stand around all day or is someone going to help me make lunch?”

 

Lunch is vibrant, with Bruce and Pepper and Bucky joining them. How one cooks for so many people, especially when they come and go unannounced, Peter has no idea, but he assumes FRIDAY lends her help. Wanda and Sam serve up a brilliant carbonara at the long table that just about sits all of them (plus two, which probably won’t be enough in the near future, but oh well). Thankfully, everyone is bright-eyed enough not to let the conversation lull too much while eating, though Peter still feels a little awe-struck by the company.

Bucky and Sam bicker and jostle, and grin triumphantly when he plays along perfectly to their little games. Natasha tells Tony, dead seriously, that “We’re keeping this one, I like him,” when he helps them convince Steve that Captain America has held the title of ‘Least Impressive Avenger’ online for five consecutive years. Bruce promises to show him around his labs and explain his research and experiments later, but that he has to leave this afternoon to act as an Earth-Asgard political liaison for Thor and Loki. Pepper tells him solemnly that he can always talk to her, especially if any of the others start ganging up on him. He tells her that her concern is much appreciated, but that he’ll probably be just fine.

 

By the time evening rolls around, Peter has reprimanded several chemists on their lack of respect for the necessity of as little mass as possible for his web fluid, made two bowls of chicken caesar salad, and exhausted himself avoiding projectiles on the range _á cause de_ Hawkeye and Black Widow, and their idea of fun.

“So, buddy,” Clint starts as Peter drops down next to him on the bench, “what say you to accompanying us again?”

Peter chuckles and nods agreeably. “Same time tomorrow?”

“See, he is having fun,” Natasha grins. “You can’t be shot at and not enjoy it, even ever so slightly. Even if in a controlled environment.” Peter cannot say he isn’t somewhat discomforted.

By the time they make it back to the communal area, it’s past ten in the evening and Wanda, Vision, Rhodey and Pepper have already turned in for the night. Tony and Bruce are crashed out on one of the sofas, practically on top of one another, Sam is in the kitchen fetching leftovers, and Steve and Bucky are laid out over an armchair. The crooning of some unknown artist drifts quietly over them.

“You boys made it back in one piece? None of those nasty suits try to take a chunk outta you?” Clint greets them. He drops down into an empty armchair, and Peter leans on its side.

“They wouldn’t want to get blood on their shoes,” Tony replies. “I give them their answers and they talk right over me as if I weren’t there—do you know how _frustrating_ that is?”

“They don’t appear to like us very much,” Natasha agrees.

“Thor appreciates me. Weirdly, you wouldn't think it, but _I_ think Loki does too. He just has a bizarre way of expressing emotions.”

“Tony, they’re raw. I wasn’t on the ship for the end of that fight, and I don’t know what happened, but it broke them.” Bruce murmurs. “They need to recover, but this bullshit won’t let them. It’s too much, even for me.”

Tony exhales loudly. He considers things for a moment, running his hands through his hair and down his face. “Screw it,” he announces, sitting bolt upright. Bruce almost slides onto the floor.

“Screw it, I’m setting the damn thing up anyway. We need PR on this, raise awareness _everywhere_. Then we make an appeal to the north first, and then the south in the next few days. Call out for anyone willing to provide space or supplies or donations.”

“Tony,” Steve interjects, soft and calm, “wait until the morning. You’re tired. Go to Pepper and get some sleep.” If he moved his head he’d disturb Bucky, so Steve just points to the stairs and looks on imploringly. “Rest.”

Sam hands him a small plate of cold meats, salad and a fork on his way out and sets another on the table in front of Bruce. Bruce lifts his head but groans and drops it back down without moving. Natasha sits down next to him and strokes his arm, picking at a slice of manchego. Her hand runs from his shoulder to elbow and back again, and all the while she keeps up a gentle smile.

“You’re not gonna tell me it’s past my bedtime, are you?” Peter asks. Steve snorts, and Clint pinches his shin.

“You can even watch TV while you stay up,” he says. “But Tony won’t let us order pizza straight to the complex. Something about security.” He frowns.

Steve rolls his eyes. “You just don’t know how to do it,” he says, and Clint balks.

“That evil mother fucker.”

 

Peter makes an Instagram post that evening, from his Spider-Man account. Tony’s assured him it’s okay, and Peter’s sure he secretly enjoys being able to spy on him more than through his publicity. The view of the sunset from the roof of the hangar was spectacular, and he has a great shot of Steve doing dishes he knows people will love. He tags it #captainchorebuster, because he’s not creative enough to do any better right now. Unsurprisingly, Shuri is one of his first commenters, though he’s fairly certain she should still be asleep. On the group chat, Clint pings him with a thumbs up emoji.

 

* * *

 

The next day he helps to make breakfast, because he didn’t want to be the last person awake (awkward), but didn’t want to ask about anyone else (awkward), and so instead set his alarm for just before five a.m., which really was a bit too much, in hindsight. When Steve and Sam come back from their run, already showered—and isn’t that a sight to behold—he’s contentedly pouring his homemade waffle batter into the iron and closing the lid on the first batch. He finds several large trays and takes a variety of fruit from the fridge, washing and chopping everything and sticking them with toothpicks from the large array on the counter. Humming along to the comically apt songs he has playing over the system from one of Tony’s morning playlists, Peter is, in the next minute, scared shitless by Steve sneaking up on him.

“On your left,” he announces, loudly, by Peter’s ear. Peter, for one, yelps and flails with the sharp pointy knife still in his hand. Sam, across the room, sighs heavily.

“Jeez, sorry Mister Steve, I didn’t know you were there.” He pats his chest and breathes. At least he didn’t make a ceiling ornament of himself this time. Steve snorts behind his hand and nudges Peter’s shoulder.

“Sorry, Peter, I couldn’t resist.”

“No, no,” Peter hurries, putting down the knife and waving his hands in front of himself. “I’m just not used to the spidey sense not doing the thing. It—um, you’re not ‘danger’ so it doesn’t trigger.” He wrinkles his nose and goes back to his task, heading to the freezer to bring out the ice cube trays. “And, it’s nothing against Miss Natasha, but…”

Sam picks up for him. “Kid, even at the best of times she scares the living crap outta me. We ain’t gonna hold it against you if you want to know when she’s creeping up on you.”

Peter smiles and tips out several trays’ worth of ice onto the… Other trays, and arranges the fruit on top of it, using the melon skins to keep his melon cubes in place. He refills the ice cube trays and replaces them in the freezer. Steve has taken over waffle duty, kindly plating them up to distribute around the table. Peter finds several small bowls and fills them with sugar, honey, syrup, chocolate, and whatever else he can find. He finds boxes of cereals, fruit snacks, pop-tarts, and popcorn all labelled “Thor”, and leaves them well alone.

He takes a picture of the spread at the table, making sure to get some of the fancy-ass living space in the background, and posts that too.

_A feast worthy of the Universe’s best? I sure hope so :)_

He sits himself at the end of the table with Sam and Steve and helps himself. Soon enough, Clint comes strolling around the corner, looking rumpled and half-asleep.

“I smell food,” he announces, and goes to find himself some coffee. When he joins them, Peter has already eaten too much. Clint begins to pile his waffle with whipped cream and chocolate. Sam looks at it in mild contempt.

“I don’t know how you can eat all that and still look so good, man. Are you sure you’re not enhanced?” He asks.

Clint fiddles with the hearing aid he’s forgotten to turn on and grins. “I’m friends with Nat.”

Nobody really wants to know what that means.

“Anyway,” he continues, mouth full, “has anyone else seen Stormbreaker? It’s kind of in the way.”

Peter frowns. Stormbreaker? Thor is here?

“I think it fell over in the hall. I don’t know how, but I don’t want to try to move it—maybe it’s still a sore point?”

Steve nods, getting up to pour Pepper a glass of juice as she joins them. “Best to leave it? He’ll pick it up when they’re awake.”

 

That morning Peter wanders mostly around the living quarters, fiddling with anything he gets his hands on and staring at Cap’s shield hung on the wall. Shuri DMs him sometime mid morning asking for his phone number, then promptly asks him for his other social media accounts. Her interest is overwhelming for him—he who is usually relegated to loser. He snaps her later, when he’s exploring the gym and sees Clint napping on top of the climbing wall.

_Princess is typing.._

Princess: _Yeet something at him for me will you >:) _

He films it. He also sends the saved video to the avengers chat, and supposes there’s good reason as to why Tony hasn’t added him to their serious-business group yet. In the workout room, Peter finds the very attractive looking Asgardian woman with very scary looking muscles on the weights. She smiles though, when she notices him, so he smiles and waves.

When the Guardians enter the building he almost misses it, except FRIDAY announces their arrival to Tony while he’s showing Peter the latest updates on his new StarkTech OS. He goes with and pokes his head around the corner to watch Tony point out their facilities to them.

“Oh hey! Little Peter!” Peter Quill announces when they traipse past.

“Mister Star Lord,” Peter says, holding out his hand to shake. Quill grins and shakes it. Gamora steps between them quickly, clasping Peter by the arms.

“Please, we’re begging you, call him _anything_ but that,” she tells him, but smiles before she continues down the hallway.

“Come _on,_ it’s a cool name!” Quill insists, following.

“No, really,” Rocket snickers, “it’s almost as bad as Taserface.”

Peter looks at him, horrified.

“I am Groot.”

“Trust me.”

Rocket continues his heckling of Peter Quill's self-imposed torture, I mean, nickname. Mantis grins and waves to him.

 

 

 

 

> **June 2 2018, Ironic Created:** **_To Do: Avenge_**
> 
> _Bruce (Dr. Science), Bucky (Defrosted), Carol (Capn), Clint (Sorry what?), Hope (Buzz buzz), Loki (Fear me.), Nat (I know what u did), Pepper (Salt cellar), You, Rhodey (Suit up), Sam (Redwing), Scott (Ant king), Shuri (Fre sh a voca do), Steve (Capsicle), T’Challa (Pink Panther), Thor (Sparkles), Tony (Ironic), Valkyrie (Tequila), Vision (Visual Basic), Wanda (It’s scarlet not red)_
> 
> _You have been made admin_
> 
> _June 30_
> 
> _15:08_
> 
> Defrosted: Has anyone seen Steve?
> 
> Redwing: Wasn’t he with you?
> 
> Defrosted: Nah
> 
> Redwing: well idk
> 
> You: ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Redwing: surprised pikachu.jpeg
> 
> Redwing: How did you do that
> 
> You: ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Fre sh a voca do: ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Capsicle: Sorry I was in the shower
> 
> Defrosted: on my way
> 
> Fre sh a voca do: lmao
> 
> Redwing: lmao
> 
> Ironic: lmao
> 
> Tequila: lmao
> 
> Defrosted: What’s so funny
> 
> Capsicle: Dear God
> 
> Defrosted: Oh
> 
> _15:34_
> 
> Sorry what?: lmao
> 
> Sorry what?: well he didn’t correct himself
> 
> Defrosted: Why would I?
> 
> Fre sh a voca do: lmaooo
> 
> You: think of the chILDREN
> 
> Redwing: yeah nasty
> 
> Defrosted: uh huh sure wilson I know what you’ve done
> 
> Redwing: wtf is that supposed to mean
> 
> You: -eyes emoji-
> 
> Ironic: not sure we wanna know
> 
> You: -eyes emoji- -eyes emoji- -eyes emoji-
> 
> Ironic: peter stop
> 
> Ant king: -eyes emoji-
> 
> Ironic: don’t encourage him
> 
> Capsicle: -eyes emoji-
> 
> You: ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
> 
> Redwing: This is bullying
> 
> Defrosted: get your ass over here
> 
> Suit up: What in the blazing hells is happening
> 
> Redwing: ??????
> 
> Capn: shhh let them
> 
> Defrosted: If everyone could stop jumping to conclusions that would be great
> 
> Defrosted: neither confirming nor denying just that it would be great
> 
> Fre sh a voca do: me jumping to conclusions spidermanfall.gif
> 
> You: me
> 
> Sorry what: lmao
> 
> Capsicle: Why are you like this buck
> 
> Defrosted: It’s called having fun captain hardass you should try it some time
> 
> Capn: Fun? Never heard of her
> 
> Capsicle: I’m right next to you why are you texting
> 
> Defrosted: Actually you’re on top of me and why are _you_ texting
> 
> You: gottem
> 
> Fre sh a voca do: Rekt
> 
> I know what u did: Sounds gay
> 
> Tequila: Someone call?
> 
> Capn: You didn’t have to ask I’m already here
> 
> Tequila: nice
> 
> Ironic: Cap don’t you have like a planet to save or something
> 
> Capn: I do get to rest sometimes u kno
> 
> Capn: things were groovier when the guardians were out here doing their weird not-heroes thing
> 
> Capn: But yeah
> 
> You: Groovy!
> 
> Fre sh a voca do: Shaggy’s power transcends space and time
> 
> Fear me.: I haven’t heard of this Shaggy
> 
> Sparkles: Neither have I brother
> 
> Sparkles: Did the Grandmaster not mention him?
> 
> Fear me.: I’m not sure I want to remember
> 
> You: The Grandmaster?
> 
> Sparkles: The Grandmaster is the ruler of a strange junkyard planet called Sakaar
> 
> Fear me.: did you mean landfill
> 
> Tequila: EXcusE me that was my home
> 
> Fear me.: Are we wrong?
> 
> Tequila: not the point
> 
> Fear me: Anyway I gained his favour and then we all escaped thanks to it
> 
> Sparkles: You never did mention how you did that
> 
> Tequila: you also tried to betray us
> 
> Tequila: again
> 
> You: :o
> 
> Fear me.: It really isn’t important brother
> 
> Sparkles: ????
> 
> Tequila: i’m 100% certain you _do not_ want to know
> 
> Sparkles: ????????????
> 
> Fre sh a voca do: what was he like? How old was he?
> 
> Tequila: probably thousands but he looked like,,, 50 or 60 or smth
> 
> Fre sh a voca do: ew
> 
> Fre sh a voca do: oh god you really did that magic boy?
> 
> Fear me.: I didn;t hav that much choice
> 
> Sparkles: What do you mean? Choice to do what?
> 
> Fear me.: don;t worry really
> 
> Sparkles: What’s happened to your typing?
> 
> Tequila: I can hear him laughing down the corridor
> 
> Tequila: idk if i like it or never want to hear it again but it sounds like he’s having a fit
> 
> Ironic: Jesus Christ
> 
> Ironic: I hate all of you
> 
> Ironic: Why did I agree to this
> 
> Capn: This is the best entertainment I’ve had in a long time
> 
> Tequila: when are you next on planet out of interest?
> 
> Tequila: asking for a friend
> 
> Sparkles: You don’t have friends
> 
> Sparkles: I mean, I am your friend, and unless Banner is asking I don’t think Loki or I have
> 
> Tequila: shut up
> 
> Capn: Soon, sooner if you need me for something?
> 
> Tequila: no hurry! Take your time, just wondering when we might be able to meet you properly
> 
> Fear me.: Who is “we”
> 
> Capn: no problem, keep me updated
> 
> _18:18_
> 
> It’s scarlet not red: dinner time
> 
> It’s scarlet not red: clint is barbecuing outside
> 
> Salt cellar: Does he need help?
> 
> Sorry what?: no thanks should be fine!
> 
> Sorry what?: should have enough done for everyone soon
> 
> Sorry what?: I’ll do supersoldier portions after everone has at least a serving each
> 
> Defrosted: we’re coming
> 
> Sorry what?: oh and Coulson is coming over!!!!!!!!! 
> 
> You: tysm!!
> 
> Fre sh a voca do: God I wish that were me
> 
> You: Jump on a jet or smth god
> 
> Fre sh a voca do: ikr what’s the point of being a princess
> 
> Fre sh a voca do: my brother is a king and he still won’t let me have a sleepover in New York :’(
> 
> You: tragic
> 
> Ironic: You should come over when Peter invites his friends
> 
> Fre sh a voca do: @Pink Panther
> 
> You: mr stark you invited them
> 
> Ironic: I want you to have fun!
> 
> Salt cellar: What a wonderful idea! Why didn’t they come with you?
> 
> Ironic: Oh they weren’t really prepared to
> 
> Ironic: They were like, half asleep in his living room
> 
> Salt cellar: Oh, okay, but definitely next time!
> 
> Sorry what?: guys
> 
> Sorry what?: food
> 
> It’s scarlet not red: Bucky and Thor are going to eat all of it if you don’t get your asses down here soon
> 
> You: right there!
> 
> Ironic: Don’t you dare jump out of any windows
> 
> Fear me.: ...
> 
> _23:21_
> 
> Pink Panther: Of course we will visit
> 
> Pink Panther: It is very kind of you to extend the invitation


	3. Chapter 3

 

Peter goes back to school that week. It is one of the most jarring experiences he’s had yet, because while he’s had one more week away than everyone else, no one seems to have cared. He isn’t even called any names on his way to first period, and he starts to worry that they didn’t manage to fix everything. And then he steps into homeroom to find his ‘internship commemoration photo’ pinned to one of the accomplishments and achievements boards, god _damnit_ . By the end of the first week, he’s only asked by two teachers if it would be possible to get tickets for their classes to one of the upcoming Avengers’ or SI panels. When he asks Tony, his school suddenly finds themselves first on the sign-up list of the newly set-up _SI: Access For Education_ programme. He sure hopes he gets extra credit for it.

MJ sits with them at lunch and sketches Peter’s face when he’s being battered with scrunched up paper, and ends up in detention for throwing a book back at Flash by Thursday, so Ned and Peter sit in the detention room with her in protest. Peter can barely keep himself from laughing his ass off when they play one of Cap’s old educational tapes. It feels wrong somehow—or rather redundant, after everything that’s happened. And that he’s, like, _been to space_.

At the weekend he finds Karen’s video data that he’d saved and transferred from his suit to his phone. He works through his memories, slowly but surely, and takes the best snapshots he can of the ship and Titan and his teammates and tries not to flinch. May joins him for some of it, and is rightfully horrified at just the idea, but she knows him. She knows it’s over now, and she knows it’s his job. He sends the best ones to Ned and MJ. He even has some of the altered reality Thanos had shown them on Titan, the projection of the past, which had seemed so strangely unreal he’d half expected it to have been a mind trick, not physical at all.

 

> **Tony Stark**
> 
> _July 10_
> 
> _19:02_
> 
> You: Thanks again Mr Stark for the talk panel thing
> 
> You: I know your schedule is already really busy
> 
> You: Anyway I was looking through the footage Karen took during the fight
> 
> Tony: no problem kid
> 
> Tony: why would you be doing that?
> 
> You: I wanted to know
> 
> You: but I did get some good stills
> 
> You: idk if you want them
> 
> Tony: Not really
> 
> Tony: But send them we can use it for extra documentation from your side
> 
> You: Out of interest who else had footage?
> 
> Tony: Me, Rhodey, Pep, Nebula, Vis, Wilson
> 
> Tony: Would you like to watch it when you come over?
> 
> You: … you would let me?
> 
> You: yes please
> 
> You: It feels weird knowing I missed so much
> 
> Tony: No problem kid
> 
> _20:15_
> 
> Tony: Oh yeah tell Ned and Ms. Jones I’ll pick them up with you if thats good with them
> 
> Tony: Do you think they should stay for a few days or the week?
> 
> You: Well we wouldn’t want to interrupt and cause problems
> 
> You: Three days? Four?
> 
> Tony: Absolutely, you’re no trouble at all

 

 

> **Losers**
> 
> _Michelle (Distressed pikachu), Ned (Palp is back)_
> 
> _20:28_
> 
> Palp is back: yeah but are we going to be searched
> 
> You: no dumbass FRIDAY can scan you
> 
> You: anyway Mr Stark just said you can stay up to a week for now
> 
> You: I suggested three or four days
> 
> Distressed pikachu: sounds great
> 
> Palp is back: tgank you!!!!
> 
> You: Np
> 
> You: Y’all good to come to mine after school?
> 
> Distressed pikachu: eh
> 
> You: Oh yeah and there;s a surprise
> 
> You: Well there should be anyway
> 
> Palp is back: !!!!!
> 
> Distressed pikachu: We’re meeting Avengers how much better could it get

 

“May,” Peter calls, head in the fridge.

“Yes, Peter?”

He sticks his arm in to reach to the back and pull out two bottles of water and a Coke. “I forgot to tell you Mr. Stark texted to say he can’t be there to pick us up so he’s sending someone else.” He elbows the door closed and steals a packet of chocolate buttons from the cupboard.

“Oh okay, honey. Any idea who?”

“Nah, he didn’t say,” he says, returning to the living room. He tosses Ned his coke and stashes everything else in his bag.

“It’s a _mystery_ ,” conspires MJ, just seconds before the doorbell rings. She shrugs. “I’m magic.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure you are,” Ned snorts. May answers the door, and they can hear her energetically introducing herself. Peter follows down the hall to see Sam and Steve grinning in the doorway, shaking her hand. It looks a little crowded.

“Mister Rogers! Mister Falcon! When Mister Stark said he’d send someone else, I didn’t think you’d come just for us! Weren’t you busy?”

“Hey Queens, good to see you,” Steve greets.

Sam laughs, following when they’re invited inside. “Kid, what did I tell you? Just Sam.”

“That too, and we always have time for you. The team is family, you know?” Steve agrees.

“Well… Thank you very much.”

“You must be Ned Leeds and Miss Jones,” Steve smiles, rounding the corner to the living room and seeing them shoot up from the sofa. He holds out a hand for them to shake. They’re both looking rather starstruck.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mister Rogers!”

“Yes, really, and, uh, just MJ is fine.”

“The pleasure is mine. Please, call me Steve.”

Sam walks up to his side and smirks. “And I’m Sam, the unimpressive sidekick.”

“Sam Wilson, The Falcon? Woah,” Ned says, wide-eyed.

“Unimpressive? _Unimpressive?_ You caught Peter with your drone and flung him out of a window.” MJ graciously reminds them. “That was _golden._ ”

Sam grins and wiggles his eyebrows. “Maybe I do have some use after all.”

“No more flinging out of windows,” Steve says, with his fond ‘grandpa nostalgia’ expression. If anyone asks, it was Tony who dubbed it that.

Peter sneaks a glance at May, who has the look of an unimpressed nursery parent finding out what their child gets up to at school.

“No promises, Cap; I’m still owed payback.” Peter says, amiably, and pats Sam gently, hesitantly, on the shoulder. He snorts. “Anyway, isn’t it time we get going?”

“Sure is,” May smiles. “Have you all got everything? Toothbrush, pyjamas, phone chargers, hairbrush, clothes, keys, wallets?”

“Yep,” all three answer, holding up their bags in indication.

“Wonderful,” she says, smiling, and gives them each a hug before they go.

 

 

> **Shuri Highness, Her Royal**
> 
> _July 15_
> 
> _17:29_
> 
> You: You were still coming for today, right?
> 
> Shuri: Of course spider boy
> 
> Shuri: We’re decimating the practise area right now
> 
> You: Oh great
> 
> Shuri: Natasha is having a lot of fun
> 
> You: Sounds like her scene
> 
> Shuri: Yep
> 
> Shuri: We even met some of your ex-men
> 
> You: The xmen were there?????
> 
> Shuri: Ye but they left this afternoon
> 
> You: :((
> 
> Shuri: I liked the havoc guy. alex or smth. Kinda hot, kinda convinced he’s banging the nerdy one
> 
> You: Mood
> 
> You: I’m excited to see you again!
> 
> Shuri: Me too! And your friends sound very interesting too
> 
> You: They’re currently having a crisis over Avengers
> 
> You: This is gonna be hilarious
> 
> Shuri: Bet you five bucks one of them shrieks when they see Thor
> 
> You: I don’t trust them enough to make that bet
> 
> You: I don’t trust _me_ enough to make that bet
> 
> You: Even if I don’t count
> 
> Shuri: Fan boy
> 
> You: Haters gonna hate
> 
> Shuri: I’m Running For President
> 
> You: It’s _Class_ President Dude

 

“Here, let us take those,” Steve offers, holding out his hand for the bags they’re hauling out of the back of the car.

“Oh, we couldn’t,” Ned panics, “you just drove us all the way here.”

“Yeah well we’re hardly gonna collapse now, are we.” Sam chuckles, shouldering MJ’s duffle. “Spidey can carry his own, though. Can’t think I’m going soft just yet.”

Peter steps back and inhales deeply, looking around at the complex. It’s gorgeous, and he loves it. His friends are looking from one thing to the next, trying to take it all in. He can see Bucky sitting on a bench just outside the entrance, waiting for them. Peter really wants to ask him where he got his jacket. He waves, and Bucky waves back.

On their way over someone comes running over from the side door of the test labs.

“Ah, Doctor Marcus! Hi!”

The doctor is an average-sized man, with untidy blonde hair and a kind but fractious expression, always needing to be somewhere else, doing something else. “Hello Mister Parker! I just wanted to let you know we think we’ve found an alternative material, and you’re welcome to test it out whenever you’re free. We can see if it’s ready for Spider-Man. Good to see you back.”

“I think I’ll be round tomorrow, if that’s all right with you,” Peter replies.

“Of course!” The doctor says. “I’ll leave you and your friends to enjoy your stay.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Steve smiles before turning and heading straight towards Bucky. The supersoldier shadow stands to meet them.

“Good journey?” He asks, taking Peter’s bag and ruffling his hair.

“Traffic was a little heavier today, but we’re good,” Steve says, curling Bucky into a side hug.

“Pepper says she’ll be out in a few minutes to see them, but we should take them to the guest wing. That all right with you guys?”

“Yes, yes absolutely!” Ned is nodding frantically and failing not to grin.

“It’s a floor away from where we and Peter will be, but you shouldn’t have to worry about anything. The Wakandan royal regiment are in the same hall, so you can ask them if you need anything. They said they’ll look out for you if you need it,” Steve tells them. “They look scary, and they absolutely are, but they’re nice people. Ask for the Dora Milaje, if you need them.”

“Peter! You didn’t tell us the Wakandan royal family would be here!” Ned yelps.

“Thank you, Mister Rogers, Mister Barnes,” MJ is sure to say, before glaring at Peter too.

Bucky laughs quietly. “I like these kids.”

“Tony said we would.”

“Yeah but he’s biased.”

“And we’re not?”

“Shhhh,”  Sam hisses, “we can’t let them know we _feel._ ”

“Bit late for that. Steve’s whole existence is based on overreacting and being dramatic.”

They wander up through the labs and rec rooms and gyms and offices. Wanda waves from one as they pass. There’s a miniature arrow lodged in the back of the lift they step into, pinning down a note that reads:

_WELCOME SPIDEY + CO :) BBQ OR PIZZA 2NITE? U KNO WHR 2 FIND US!_

Peter pulls the arrow out and hands the note to MJ for her scrapbook.

“Are we having another picnic?” He asks Steve.

“Seems so,” he says. “We haven’t had pizza in a while, whadda you say?”

“Sounds good to me,” Bucky agrees.

“ _We_ haven’t had pizza in, like, three days. Let’s do that.” MJ adds. Peter snorts.

 

 

> **Clint Barton**
> 
> _July 15_
> 
> _18:49_
> 
> You: we all say pizza
> 
> You: how’s that sound?
> 
> Clint: longestyeahboiever.jpeg
> 
> You: :’)

 

Peter goes with his friends to marvel at the reasonably extensive guest suites and drop their things. They take an obligatory bathroom selfie. Or twelve. When they follow Peter up to his room they make fun of the collection of fan mail sitting on his bed. He changes shoes and slips on his suit wristband—a prototype similar to the current Iron Man suit that he and Tony are working on. He stabs the arrow into his pinboard, and they meet up with Sam in the hallway,

“Sorry to break up team America,” he says, “but the OAPs have a surprise to set up. If you’ll all follow me, I’ll take you to Ms Potts’ office, I think she’s been held up by someone or other.”

“A surprise?” Peter asks.

Sam looks amused. “Well, nothing big, but we’re a bunch of bored superheroes unable to do much more than we already are. We need some fun.”

They walk out of the residential wing. The corridor is long, and deserted, and gleaming in its grey marbled splendour. The lightwood floors are soft and welcoming beneath the neutral carpet runner. At the end of the corridor, towards the living space, is a set of double doors they head through, and another at the end of the next section they enter. Sam knocks several times on a door a few alcoves down, near the end. The metal plate on the wall declares _Ms. Potts, CEO, SI_. The tiny blue light on the lock panel blinks thrice at them, so Sam pushes the door open with a finger to his lips for Peter, Ned and MJ. Pepper is on the phone as they creep in and loiter around the walls.

“I’m sorry, sir, but it really isn’t possible. Mm hmm, mm hm. Yes, I realise this. I must reiterate, Stark Industries cannot push this any further back. I apologise. Yes. Now, I really must go. I shall have to call you back if you wish to continue this conversation. Thank you. Goodbye Mr. Felle.” She places the phone back in its cradle with a derisive _clack_. She inhales and exhales, deeply, once, and looks up at them with a wide, genuine smile.

“Hello, Ms Potts,” Peter starts. “I hope we’re not causing you any problems interrupting.”

“Of course not, Peter! In fact I think you rather saved me from that conversation. I’m so sorry I couldn’t come to meet you.” With grace and ease, Pepper stands and moves around her desk to introduce herself. “You must be Mister Leeds and Miss Jones,” she says, cheerfully. “It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you, we’ve all heard so much about you from Peter.”

Both of them shake her hand.

“Hello, Ms Potts, thank you ever so much for letting us visit!” Ned bounces on his feet as he talks.

“It really is incredibly kind. And just Ned and Michelle is great.”

“Really, it’s no trouble at all. We all want to get to know you. Call me Pepper, too.” She turns back to her desk to pick up two paper files. She hands them to his friends, who seem surprised to see their names printed on the front.

_Mr. Ned Leeds, July 15 Visit to Avengers Facility, New York_

_Miss. Michelle Jones, July 15 Visit to Avengers Facility, New York_

“In here are just some things you may be interested in, a few leaflets, a map, and your guest IDs. Most of this was Tony’s idea. He got very excited. FRIDAY already has your security clearance logged. You can always ask her or come to me if you have any questions or are in need of anything.”

“... Wow. Thank you ever so much,” MJ manages, solemnly.

“So, at some point we can give you a tour of the facility, let you have a look in some of the labs, but I think we’d better leave that for when Tony gets a hold of you. I’m sure he’ll be enticing your brilliant minds onto his own projects in no time. For now, would you mind if we did introductions? Or would you like to go to your rooms to settle in?”

MJ looks at Ned, Ned looks at MJ. They both shrug, and look at Peter, who also shrugs.

“We’d love to meet everyone, I think,” says MJ. “We were told somebody has been planning a surprise?”

Pepper’s smile deepens in warmth. Peter is overwhelmed by how genuinely happy she appears to be.

“Of course,” she replies. “Sam, if you’d lead the way.”

Sam salutes her with a smirk and strides back into the corridor. They walk right to the end, through the next set of double doors. Here they ignore the lift in front of them, instead turning left, right, up the stairs one floor to where light from the open upstairs room filters down. As soon as they get to the top of the second flight, there’s a huge cheer and many strange cracking noises from all the people gathered to meet them.

“Surprise!!!”

“Welcome to the facility!”

“Welcome back, Peter!”

“You’re on summer holidays! It’s celebration time!”

“Are they?”

“I told you, schools close early this year.”

Peter looks between each of them, squabbling and grinning and clutching now-empty party poppers, and can’t stop himself laughing. He feels Ned, beside him, step back to grab hold of the railing. He tugs clumps of coloured strings out of his hair, still grinning. MJ looks wonderfully bemused, gripping her file open-mouthed.

“Is this a surprise party?” Peter asks. In front of him stand all of the Avengers, Shuri and her brother, the Asgardian royals, Doctor Strange and Wong, and Happy. Hanging from the ceiling is a banner that says _CONGRATULATIONS,_ and another that says _HAPPY 17TH,_ with an “s” and a “maybe” scribbled next to it. Hanging from those by some string is a sheet of A3 on which someone has written _CONGRATS, THE WORLD IS SAVED!_ Everyone is wearing a glittery party hat. There are balloons. And _everything_ is Spider-Man themed.

It’s truly ridiculous; he loves it.

“Oh,” MJ murmurs, “my god.”

Tony steps forward first.

“So, did we get you?” He asks.

“I… Yeah, I-I think so,” Peter says. “Whose idea was all this?”

“A mix,” Tony admits. “I mean, we all had our input, between us. The freeloaders joined in afterwards.” He flicks a hand dismissively in the direction of Strange. “We have food downstairs, a lot of food, and yes I’ve made sure it’s all properly covered for the time being, so we can eat outside. But not at tables, because Clint and Wanda are savages and are insisting we sit on blankets.”

“What’s a picnic if you’re not on the grass?” Natasha calls.

“Oh, and you would know?” Tony turns to her. “You want to sit with the ants?”

“Hey!” Shout Scott and Cassie Lang, indignant.

“Never mind. Well, if you would suit up and follow us, we’ll head down to the feast.”

The room is suddenly very noisy as everyone heads for the stairs down to the grounds. Steve and Bruce come over to hand them each a silly, sparkly Spider-Man hat.

“Oh my gosh, you’re Doctor Bruce Banner!” Ned gasps. “Sorry, sorry—you know who you are, of course, just, _wow._ ”

Bruce smiles, bewildered, and holds out a hand to shake. “You’re Ned Leeds, right? It’s good to meet you.”

“It’s amazing meeting you, sir, just, wow—you’ve been a personal hero of mine since, like, ever. Your picture is on the wall of our science labs.”

“Really?” Bruce replies. “I’m-I’m floored. Glad to be of service.”

“It really is a pleasure, sir,” MJ joins in, collected over her masked enthusiasm. “We really admire you and your work. It’s fascinating.”

Peter places his hat on his head and snickers. “I did warn you, Doctor Banner. They’re just like me.”

Bruce smiles and pats Peter’s shoulder. “Come on, kids. Let’s get some food.” The second he turns around, Shuri sneaks up and grabs Peter’s other arm, not that he didn’t know she was lurking.

“Boo! Did you miss me?”

“Ah, Shuri! How have you been?” Peter exclaims.

“Good, good, just reinventing the world, waiting for you to introduce me to your friends, you know? And gosh New York is pretty hot today, for July.”

“Must be that global warming thing,” MJ says, so Peter steps back and gestures to her. “Hi, I’m Michelle Jones, or just MJ. It’s a pleasure to meet you, your highness.” She inclines her head.

“Oh gosh, no, please just call me Shuri. It’s great to finally meet you, I see you both all the time when I stalk Spider-Boy’s social media.”

Peter narrows his eyes at her and mumbles, “Oi, back off.”

Shuri raises her eyebrows and sticks her tongue out at him. “As if, Spider-Boy.”

 

The picnic is the largest Peter has ever seen, let alone been a part of. The lawn is covered with a patchwork of colourful blankets strewn artfully and stacked with snack bowls and pizza boxes. They overlook the lake as the sun sets, with music and dancing and so much talking.

When the light begins to fade, most people are lazing around and chatting. Peter sees Tony tap his watch a few times, and wink at him over his sunglasses. A few moments later Peter almost chokes on his drink when Ned thumps his arm with excitement, pointing up. Tiny drones are hovering around them carrying small, round paper lanterns. The party is awash with warm light, and though nobody immediately changes the music back to a more energetic track list, and the dancing starts up again. After quite a heated mock slow dance with Harley, he ends up swaying (but mostly panicking) with MJ under the soft golden glow. It’s such a fanciful experience, he wonders if it’s an hallucination. Ned and Shuri whistle at them, rather unhelpfully. After a while, someone gets fed up and the playlist abruptly changes.

Peter may or may not now have videos of Rhodey and Tony dad dancing with Harley, Carol Danvers (yeah, he _knows_ right?!) twirling Valkyrie around and around and around and around and around and—aren’t they dizzy yet?— and also a dangerous-looking people tower contest, with Steve and Vision at the base of each, and Wanda as referee-slash-safety net. MJ sits atop Natasha’s shoulders, at the top of Steve’s tower, and whoops as they watch Harley unbalance the other tower and all of them go crashing down. Wanda catches them. Just.

Clint does _not_ stop whining about how unfair it is that he had to be on the losing team—he was _trained_ for this! _Yes, Clint, we know! Your balance is exemplary! You still lost!_ In the end, he drapes himself over Coulson’s shoulder and pouts. Once plied with some leftover pizza, he drops the show and goes racing off with Thor and Bucky to compete over some other silly thing. Peter thinks it’s a frisbee competition. In the dark. But like, _extreme_ frisbee. They could take someone’s head off with that, jeez.

Spider-Man’s Instagram and Twitter fans, understandably, have a field day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> I don't think I'll continue this particular Peter fic, mostly because I have my happy end and I wouldn't be sure where to go next. If I were to continue I'd be dragging on about their visit and it'd become boring, so quit while I'm ahead, right?  
> Anyway, I hope to see you again soon!  
> Thank you :)


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